


To Walk a Thin Line

by KingBirds



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Spoils everything in the manga, You'll see what I mean, a little mental trauma involving children, but she's not terrible or anything, if you can't see her objectively you probably won't like it, ma boi grimmjow gets some closure, my shorthand for labelling this is TWAT_L, orihime is collateral damage in this, poor use of flashbacks as a storytelling device, shoehorned relationships into the canon, this might be a soap opera, which I think is funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingBirds/pseuds/KingBirds
Summary: Eleven years after Yhwach's defeat, Toshiro meets Rukia again when, for the first time, it's Ichigo who needs saving. It turns out ten years apart isn't enough to get over that one year after the end of the Thousand Year Blood War.
Relationships: Hitsugaya Toushirou/Kuchiki Rukia, Inoue Orihime/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 15
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue and Chapter One

**Prologue**

In the medium-sized city of Kaneyoshi there is a waterpark and aquarium. Visitors can spend many engaging hours watching dolphins leap into the air, or ogle at fat and cuddly seals leisurely fluttering by behind the glass, or gaze at echinoderms slowly moving across rocky substrate. And, if staying dry is not to your taste, visitors can also dip their toes in the water-lined slides and pools.

A father and his son walk out of the park, skin dewy with moisture, hair still dripping. They're both smiling, the little boy holding onto the fin of the stuffed dolphin his father has won him. They have plans for dinner at a nearby fast-food restaurant and to grab ice cream before heading home. None of this is terribly important. What is important is that it's a little after sunset, their car is parked in a secluded part of the parking lot, and at the same time they are approaching the vehicle, someone is diligently breaking into it.

The father picks up on this quickly and his first instinct, understandably, is to pull the boy behind him. His second instinct, regrettably, is to confront the burglar.

The burglar pauses for a brief moment before he turns around and something in the father's demeanour changes instantly. The father had, over the course of his relatively short life, stared down many, many weapons before, but he had never, somewhat ironically, seen one as mundane as this.

The little boy doesn't understand exactly what is going on but he understands that he must be very still right then. He doesn't understand what the loud, reverberating sound is but he knows the warm splash of something on his face and the way the body in front of him crumbles to the ground is bad. How bad, no one would become aware of until much later. But for now, the boy can only half support his father's slumped body and watch the soles of the fleeing man grow evermore distant.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

It's a little house. But pretty, and with character. Like its inhabitant. The shingled roof is bright red, the corners of the gutters curling upward in that traditional style. The bamboo walls are a bit weathered but the wraparound porch has clear signs of being recently swept. There's a light but persistent dusting of snow all around the property and if he looks closely, he can see the snowflakes leisurely floating to the ground.

The snow, the house, everything, is drenched in her reiatsu. It's a reiatsu he hasn't felt in almost ten years. He zeroes in on it—she's around the back of the house, and, carefully masking his own reiatsu, he makes his way over to her.

He sees the ribbons first, arching behind her and trailing along the ground. Everything is white, from the kimono to the waraji to the sword in her hands. There's a column of foggy mist around her and a clear delimitating circle of her power that he's wary to stay out of. As he watches, she swings that sword in an elegant arc and a rush of power ripples across the ground. The freezing air whips past his face and he flinches away at the unexpectedness. When he turns back, the tip of a blade is in his direct line of sight.

"Captain Hitsugaya," she greets him. Her face is expressionless, her tone a mere centigrade above cold. Her eyes, the most emotive part of her and what he has always loved most, are empty.

He lets out a breath that forms a pale cloud between them.

"Rukia," he says, voice calm but a bit breathless, filled with familiarity, veneration and, perhaps, a touch of regret.

If that blade moves forward a bit more and slides through his eye and into his brain—well, he wouldn't be surprised.

* * *

Inside the house Rukia doesn't tell him to sit down. She could, and she should, but she doesn't. She's brought him in from the back room through a narrow corridor into the front room. It's unknown if she meant to bring him here but Tōshiro has no choice but to follow after her.

As she'd withdrawn her bankai, her attire had returned to normal. But she's not wearing the Shinigami uniform he'd expected. Instead, she's wearing what looks like a black judogi, but the material is wrapped very tightly around her body. The attire gives the impression that she now belongs to the Second Division. Her long hair is tied up in a loose, long-flowing ponytail by a black ribbon. The outfit is not at all appropriate for the snow outside, but that, too, has disappeared.

Rukia rests her zanpakuto carefully into the stand erected for it in the room. Then she turns to face him and he realizes that she…hasn't changed at all. Her hair is longer, her body leaner and even a bit taller and her eyes are sharper, but none of those things matter. She's still the same.

She doesn't speak, flat eyes watching him calmly but with expectation.

Tōshirō sighs. "It's been a while," he says.

Rukia arches an eyebrow but gives a thoughtful nod. "Ten years, is it?" she says, and her tone is conversational. Her eyes assess him distantly. "You've grown," she notes.

That he has, though he suspects (and hopes) that he still has some more growing to do.

"Well, it's been a long ten years," he responds, more than a little relieved by her amicability.

"You look more like you did when you fought Gerard," she says thoughtfully. "Your hair is neater, though."

Which causes Tōshirō to run a hand through his hair self-consciously. Rukia's lips twitch.

"I'm surprised you remember that," he says.

Her mouth forms a wry smile. "How could I forget?" she says, voice airy but with a hit of irony. "After all, that was when I first became infatuated with you."

She doesn't give him a chance to react to this statement. She folds her arms.

"You didn't come all this way for that," she says. "So, why are you here?"

And that's true, but Tōshirō thinks with some dismay that she's too quick to dismiss the possibility.

"I didn't," he confirms, meeting her eyes. The seriousness she must see there causes the tension to build in her shoulders.

"It's Ichigo, Rukia," he says quietly. "He's dead."

* * *

Ichigo was not dead. Not exactly.

At the time of Captain Hitsugaya's conversation with Rukia, Ichigo's body is lying in an isolated room at Karakura General Hospital. There are currently no fewer than six various members of the Fourth and Twelfth Divisions examining his apparently lifeless form, including Captains Kotetsu and Kurotsuchi. Urahara had been there first, but he has since retreated to his shop to draw his own conclusions. Outside, the room is dutifully guarded by Ishida, Isshin and Orihime. Ichigo's young son has been taken away by his Aunt Karin, who had been persuaded to return home to update Yuzu on the situation.

Captain Hitsugaya's pronouncement of his death is because, perhaps the only thing Isane, Kurotsuchi and Urahara agree on, Ichigo's soul had vacated his body, and no one can find it.

A gunshot through the head would do that to a person.

Kaneyoshi is a city near Karakura Town but three times its size and population. It happens to have a trauma center capable of treating more severe injuries than Karakura General can, so the first responders had taken Ichigo there. This was perhaps the worst thing that could have happened.

Kazui had enough presence of mind, despite everything, to immediately call his mother. However, in addition to being an entire train ride away, Ichigo had taken the family car that morning, greatly delaying the time Orihime, perhaps the only person that could save his life, could reach him. It had taken some frantic organization but she and Isshin did eventually make it. By then the emergency room doctors had all but given up on Ichigo, determining that there was nothing they could do. This was probably a good thing as it allowed Orihime and Isshin a few moments alone to say goodbye, which she promptly used to heal him.

Then, some strings had to be pulled, wherein Isshin found himself using up all of his favours and goodwill among other medical professionals, to move his body to Karakura General without arousing suspicion related to how the small gunshot wound in the middle of his forehead, and the related gapping chasm at the back of it, had miraculously disappeared.

When all was said and done, there he was, in an isolated and carefully hidden hospital room in Karakura, body whole, but without a soul in sight.

"We think he must have crossed over immediately," Tōshirō tells Rukia. "But no one can find him."

They're sitting now. Rukia hadn't collapsed at the news—rather, she had very carefully lowered herself to the tatami mat laid out on the ground. Not wanting to be talking down to her, Tōshirō had sat as well.

"For some reason, his reiatsu can't be detected in the human world or Soul Society," he goes on. "The Rukongai Assignment Department only records the names of souls they give numbers to. Over one hundred and fifty thousand people passed over on that day but Ichigo's name wasn't among them. There's a possibility that he passed over to Hueco Mundo but we haven't confirmed this yet."

Of course, Rukia can figure out most of this, but Tōshirō wants to be thorough.

"His body is perfectly fine, it's still as alive as it always is when he's in his Shinigami form. It's not the end of his human life yet. We just need to get his soul back. Kyoraku has given this the highest priority and we have Shinigami tracking his reiatsu in every Rukongai district. There's no trace of him. It's like his soul vaporized."

Rukia's gaze thoughtfully looking at a spot on the mat shoots up sharply.

Tōshirō quickly backtracks. "No one believes he's disappeared," he says. "But not even the Second Division can find him. Which is why I'm here. If anyone can find Ichigo, it's probably you."

Rukia, who's remained silent through all of this, takes a moment more to process everything. Her face had gone a little pale in the beginning and her body had seemed to seize, hands forming visible fists of distress. But she had buried all of this under a kind of strict rigidity until he had finished, and now that she knew the whole story, the colour had come back to her face. Her calm eyes are reassuring and determined.

She gives him a brief nod of acknowledgement and gets to her feet. Tōshirō follows her, watching as she retrieves her zanpakuto and secures it to her hip. She strides to the door and slides it open, stepping aside.

"After you, Captain."

And it strikes Tōshirō then that she's really coming, not that he'd doubted she would, but he had been imagining her returning for the past ten years without any reality to his hope, and now it was actually happening.

He obediently exits the little house, Rukia following behind him, and manages to keep his veneer of calm, even if the thought of bringing her back to Soul Society makes his stomach flip.

* * *

Contrary to what Captain Hitsugaya may have made you think, Rukia _had_ returned to Soul Society quite a few times in the past ten years. But it had never been with any permanence or longevity or great fanfare. He was never made aware of her visits in advance and if he ever found out about them (few and far in between) it was always after the fact, so much so that they were like ghost stories to him (or whatever counted for ghost stories in the afterlife), and for him, despite the mentions of her name and illusions to her presence, the past ten years had felt vacant of her altogether.

As such, when the two Shinigami step through the South Gate and into Seireitei and the Shinigami stationed there greet Rukia familiarly with _Kuchiki-san_ , an uncomfortable feeling settles into his stomach.

Rukia gives him a side-glance. "Something wrong, Captain Hitsugaya?"

He scowls away from her single arched eyebrow. "Nothing. Let's go."

Rukia's shunpo has improved vastly. His has too, which means Rukia has more than doubled her ability between then and now. The First Division buildings come into view and he casts a glance at the girl beside him. Her expression doesn't show any kind of nostalgia, which Tōshirō decides he will have to live with.

Byakuya is waiting for them outside the doors.

Eleven years ago their fight with Gerard had not made Tōshirō and Byakuya friends, exactly, but it had made them something. On the whole, Byakuya is now someone with less distaste for his fellow captains, and Captain Hitsugaya is perhaps on the high end of this spectrum.

Over the years, Tōshirō had found himself often in the company of the Sixth Division Captain, at first by happenstance, later by choice. It was primarily through Byakuya that he had heard the most about Rukia in the time she was away—the man wasn't much of a conversationalist, except, apparently, when it came to his sister.

"Nii-sama," Rukia greets her brother warmly.

"Rukia," he sighs, "Welcome back. Thank you, Captain Hitsugaya."

"Is there any news?" Tōshirō asks.

Byakuya sighs again. "The Head Captain is being briefed. Come."

Inside, Kyoraku is meeting with several officers scattered across a few divisions. A Second Division Shinigami is in the midst of reading a report—

"Captain Soi Fon's search parties have completed their initial sweep of Rukongai districts one to one hundred and sixty and have proceeded to the outer Rukongai districts. No trace of Kurosaki-dono's reiatsu so far, sir."

Kyoraku, sitting cross-legged with an elbow propped up on his bent knee, rests his chin thoughtfully in his hand.

"Lieutenant Akon?" he addresses the Twelfth Division lieutenant.

Akon, still wrapped up in his lab coat, flips through a clipboard. "We're still working on collating data from pathways into the Garganta that may have opened at the time of Kurosaki's crossing over. However, because we only monitor these incidences randomly, it will take a while to find these pathways and determine what souls passed through them. Of the pathways we do have on record, we have no evidence that Kurosaki used any of them."

"And what has Captain Kurotsuchi found?"

"Kurosaki's physical body's condition has not changed, as of Captain's last update," Akon reports. "We can track the residue of Kurosaki's spiritual pressure up until he was shot but it vanishes immediately after."

"Very well, keep working on it." Kyoraku dismisses the gathered officers and then gestures at Tōshirō, Rukia and Byakuya to come forward. Kyoraku smiles at Rukia.

"It's good to see you, Lieutenant Kuchiki," he says to her, a little teasingly. With more seriousness, he adds, "I wish it could have been under better circumstances."

"We can never account for Ichigo getting into trouble," Rukia says easily. "I came to help, Captain Kyoraku. I'd like to get started immediately."

The Head Captain chuckles. "I suspected you might. You're the Shinigami who knows Ichigo best. We have search parties in the Rukongai and human world, and Lieutenant Abarai has set off for Hueco Mundo. Unfortunately, he took off quite abruptly."

Tōshirō gives Byakuya a surprised glance. The other Captain's expression doesn't change but Tōshirō thinks he can detect the barest tightening of his jaw.

Rukia sighs exasperatedly. "Can't account for Renji getting into trouble, either," she mumbles.

"The Twelfth Division is on standby to open the Senkaimon for you," Kyoraku informs her. "Where would you like to start?"

"I'd like to start in the human world," she says firmly and immediately. Kyoraku's eyebrow arches.

"Oh?" he says curiously. "Why is that?"

Tōshirō wants to know this too. The plan had always been for Rukia to tackle Hueco Mundo. There actually weren't that many commanding officers in the Gotei Thirteen with much experience in Hueco Mundo—this area was the domain of lower-ranked exploratory Shinigami and exiles. Their excursion there at the beginning of the Aizen climax made Rukia and Renji the commanding officers with the most practical experience.

"You and I both know that if the Rukongai Assignment Department has no record of him and he can't be found in the human world, then it's highly likely his soul escaped to Hueco Mundo," Rukia says, "Probably due to his inner Hollow, who knows? The problem is Ichigo should have no problem making himself known in his soul form, even if he can't escape Hueco Mundo on his own. As a Shinigami, he has incredibly high spiritual pressure and he's always been terrible at suppressing it. The fact that we haven't been able to detect it is questionable."

"I have considered this," Kyoraku agrees, gesturing to Byakuya. "Captain Kuchiki and I have discussed as much. What's your point?"

"There must be something holding him back," Rukia explains. "If he were caught and eaten by a Hollow, there's no kido that would keep his body alive. I'm wondering if Ichigo is even in his Shinigami form at all. There's only one person who might be able to tell us for sure."

"Does it matter if he's in his Shinigami form or not?" Tōshirō asks pointedly.

Rukia's eyes slant to him but she continues to address Kyoraku: "If he were in his Shinigami form, it would be easy to find him. Just look for a lanky orange-haired idiot waving an enormous zanpakuto around. If he's in Hueco Mundo, it should be no trouble for Renji to find him and the Twelfth Division would have picked up on his activity by now. But if he's not, why isn't he trying? Why hasn't _he_ tried to contact _us_?"

Kyoraku looks between Byakuya and Tōshirō. "What do you think?" he asks them. "Lieutenant Kuchiki makes a good point."

"Ichigo suffered a gunshot wound to the head," Tōshirō says, nodding. "It was more than an hour before Inoue Orihime was able to heal him. She can regenerate physical tissues but she might not be able to recreate the synapse pathways that form memories."

Byakuya adds: "If Kurosaki is without any recollection of being a Shinigami then our current attempts to find him based on this will be fruitless."

"Exactly," Rukia says emphatically. "I want to confirm this first. As much as we're determined to get Ichigo's soul back into his body, there must be a limit to being able to do this after an event that would normally be fatal. We don't have any time to waste."

"Very well," Kyoraku nods. "Captains Kuchiki and Hitsugaya will accompany you. The Fourth and Twelfth Division Captains are due to return to Soul Society so Captain Kuchiki will remain to monitor things in the human world. Lieutenant Kuchiki and Captain Hitsugaya will follow up on any leads and report back to Squad One."

Even before Kyoraku had sent him off to retrieve Rukia, Tōshirō knew he would eventually be part of the search for Ichigo. He'd come to the conclusion himself that Ichigo's soul was likely in Hueco Mundo but he couldn't argue with Rukia's logic to start in the Human World.

"I'll meet you at the Senkaimon," Rukia tells them outside the Division One offices and takes off without waiting for a reply.

Besides Tōshirō, Byakuya sighs. "Living alone for ten years hasn't improved her bedside manner," he says, clearly more to himself than to Tōshirō.

Toshiro's eyes follow the blur of Rukia's shunpo until she disappears, and shrugs. "You would know," is all he says.

At the Senkaimon, Byakuya surprises him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Captain Hitsugaya," he says, "There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

For a not completely unknown reason, Tōshirō's heart freezes for a moment. "What is it?" he asks, avoiding looking at the other captain by casting his eyes around for a returning Rukia.

"I've brought it up to the Head Captain and he's agreed," Byakuya begins, "It's time Rukia became the Thirteenth Division's Captain. I wanted to know if you would write a recommendation letter for her."

This catches Tōshirō by surprise, all of it, even if the thought of Rukia being Captain had always been at the front of his mind.

He asks, "Why can't she just take the proficiency test? Running around getting recommendations seems unnecessary for her. And, shouldn't she be asking me herself?"

"I will bring it up with her later," Byakuya replies. "And I have no doubt that she'll pass the proficiency exam, I am just ensuring that she has options."

Tōshirō gives him a sceptical look. It's hard to read the other man's face, even for Tōshirō, but he knows nothing Byakuya has just said makes sense. Why would he ask Tōshirō for a recommendation before even letting Rukia know she was eligible for the Captaincy? Why even ask for recommendations if she was going to take the exam in the first place?

Rukia chooses this moment to reappear, and Byakuya immediately tells him, "We'll talk about this later."

"Sure," he replies with a raised eyebrow.

The lieutenant bounds up to them in her normal Shinigami uniform, armband back in place. It's actually a little jarring to see her like this, with her long hair swept over her shoulder.

She looks at them expectantly. "Ready?"

The Senkaimon opens on Karakura General's rooftop, where Captains Kurotsuchi and Kotetsu are waiting for them.

"About time you arrived," Kurotsuchi greets them irritably. "Captain Kuchiki, Captain Hitsugaya, and—"

His eyes settle on Rukia.

"—Kuchiki Rukia," his voice rises in pitch on the name in clear derision, "Or is it still Lieutenant Kuchiki? Well, no matter, I take it you're here for that boy."

Rukia chooses to ignore him, which Tōshirō thinks is wise.

Isane smiles at her kindly. "Welcome back, Rukia," she says. "I'll take you all to Ichigo."

Kurotsuchi, eager to return to Soul Society, doesn't follow them into the hospital. In their soul forms, getting to Ichigo's room would have been no problem but the journey there is oddly vacant of any kind of hospital personnel. Isane offhandedly explains that they're in a wing of the hospital that's currently under renovation.

Two people are waiting in the quiet corridor outside the room. Ishida Uryu hasn't changed much since Tōshirō last saw him several years ago, but his white doctor's lab coat is starkly evocative of a Captain's haori, a comparison Tōshirō is sure he'd hate. He's leaning against the wall, idly holding onto a Styrofoam coffee cup. The other person is someone Tōshirō had been expecting to see but that he still isn't prepared for.

Captain Shiba—although Tōshirō isn't sure he can still call him _Captain_ —has grown a beard. It's a scraggly thing, hardly worth writing home about but it catches Tōshirō completely by surprise. The former captain is sitting on one of those foldable plastic chairs designed to be uncomfortable. He looks a little tired but stands to greet them with an easy-going smile.

He sees Rukia first, abruptly pulling her into a hug, his large bulky frame completely encapsulating hers, with a gruff and dramatic, "Rukia-chan! You came!"

The girl squeaks, her body a backward bent curve as she tries to angle her face away from the aforementioned scraggly beard. "It's good to see you too," she ekes out.

From the corner of his eyes Tōshirō sees Byakuya's change of expression and has to cough to stifle a laugh. This cough draws the attention of Isshin, who graciously lets go of Rukia in favour of landing a heavy hand on Tōshirō's shoulder with an awed look.

"Is that you, Tōshirō?" he asks. "I almost didn't recognize you."

 _Why would you_ , Tōshirō thinks but manages to bite his tongue in time. Isshin looks like he's ready to pull Tōshirō into a hug too, but whatever expression Tōshirō is making stops him. Isshin keeps his smile, though, dropping his hand and nodding politely to Byakuya.

"And Byakuya's here too."

"Captain Kuchiki," Byakuya corrects him, clearly not pleased.

Isshin just grins at him. "I see you're as stuffy as always," he says and gives the other man an unexpectedly forceful pat on the back, which actually causes Byakuya to stumble forward, much to the Captain's obvious chagrin.

Beyond this commotion Tōshirō catches sight of Ishida releasing Rukia from a quiet hug of his own. The two share a wordless smile of familiarity and Tōshirō looks away. Everyone had gotten that smile out of her today, except for him and Kurotsuchi, which was not the company he wanted to be in.

Isane leads them into the room. The hospital room is mostly bare, with painted walls but half-finished fittings. Ichigo's body is laying on a standard hospital cot, covered up to his chest with a white blanket. There are none of the regular medical equipment in the room but there are still a few Shinigami officers quietly monitoring Ichigo with their own apparatus, among them Isane's own lieutenant, Kiyone.

The only chair in the room is occupied by Orihime.

Eight years ago when she and Ichigo had gotten married, Tōshirō had missed the wedding. This had been through no fault of his own. No one had really known that there was going to be a wedding and so everyone had missed it. From what he had heard, it had been a courthouse wedding, over and done in one day. Tōshirō hadn't cared much about any of it, really, but perhaps he hadn't been paying close enough attention. Matsumoto had been odd about the whole thing and he would later realize a lot of people had taken it rather peculiarly.

What he did know was that it was after this that they began to see less of Ichigo and Orihime, Orihime in particular. Again, Tōshirō had thought nothing of this. They were married, they were starting their adult lives in the human world, rightfully so, and there just didn't seem to be a need for frequent visits to Soul Society.

A year later their son being born had all but removed them from Soul Society. By then no one really batted an eye.

The woman sitting in the chair is as beautiful as always, but grown up now. With how slowly Shinigami age, it's a little striking to see how much Orihime has changed, especially compared to Ishida outside. She's wearing makeup, nothing too ostentatious, but noticeable all the same. She's dressed in what are obviously her work clothes, a straight skirt and light blouse but Tōshirō realizes he doesn't know what Orihime _does_ for a living. Her long orange hair is tied up in a bun but her normal hairpins are oddly nowhere to be seen.

Kiyone gives them a bright smile, at odds with the general gloom of the room.

"Rukia," she says with obvious tempered excitement, and then, as an afterthought, "And Captain Hitsugaya."

Tōshirō would be more bothered by his insignificance in any other situation but, well, he'd be more excited to see Rukia over himself, too.

Orihime looks over at them and gets to her feet. She smiles tiredly and Tōshirō notices for the first time the patches of blood on her clothes. It's Rukia who initiates the hug this time and the other woman all but crumbles into her, bursting into tears in what Tōshirō suspects is the first time she's cried since they'd found Ichigo.

The room goes very quiet except for the murmurings of Rukia trying to comfort her and Tōshirō edges away from them, looking down at Ichigo's body for the first time.

Objectively always somewhat good-looking, Ichigo had the fortune to look more like what Tōshirō presumes his mother had looked like than Isshin. He's aged well, hair still a mess, face lean but squared. Where there used to be creases left behind from his frequent scowling there are now those creases at the corners of his eyes of someone that smiles often.

Tōshirō himself had described Ichigo's body as alive as it always is when he was in his Shinigami form because that's what he had been told. But he can see now that this probably isn't true. The pallor of Ichigo's skin couldn't be considered good. Some kind of kido was being used to force his breathing and heartbeat and it's clear that his body can't last without it.

"Has anything changed?" he asks Kiyone.

The girl hesitates, her fingers flexing around the printouts she's holding. Keeping her eyes on Orihime, who's collecting herself, she lowers her voice and says, "Nothing's really changed. Inoue-san has healed him as much as she can. Even if she keeps trying, nothing changes, there's just nothing to heal anymore. But I'm sure you can see—" she points discretely at Ichigo, "—the tether between his soul and body is weakening."

"It's different, too."

Tōshirō looks over at Rukia. Orihime has settled back into the chair, dabbing at her eyes with a piece of tissue. The lieutenant has a comforting hand on her shoulder but Rukia's eyes are on Ichigo. Her expression is thoughtful but otherwise unyielding of what she's really feeling looking at him.

"The reiatsu lingering in his body," she goes on, "It's different."

"I noticed that, too," Orihime says, speaking for the first time, her voice gravelly but clear. She gives Rukia a peculiar smile. "Just before you came, I noticed it was different but I can't put my finger on what it is. It's like something is missing but I can't figure out what."

"Captain Kurotsuchi returned to Soul Society to complete his findings," Isane tells them. "Perhaps he'll be able to tell us."

Tōshirō watches a weird expression flit across Rukia's face for a moment. She doesn't say anything but her hand slips unnoticeably off Orihime's shoulder.

"What's your plan, Hitsugaya-kun?" Orihime asks. She's cried away the makeup on her eyes but her red-rimmed, watery gaze is firm and determined.

Tōshirō looks expectantly at Rukia. The lieutenant explains her suspicions about why they can't locate Ichigo's soul and Orihime's expression becomes more grave.

"You want to talk to Kazui," she guesses immediately.

Rukia grimaces. "I know it might be hard for him but—"

"No, no," Orihime quickly shakes her head. "It's fine, it's just—" she breaks off, expression terribly troubled, a hand coming up to hold onto the pendant of a necklace she's wearing.

Isane looks at her sympathetically. She says to Tōshirō and Rukia, "Kazui-kun hasn't been taking everything well. He's a little shell-shocked, you might say. I'm not sure if you'll be able to get anything out of him right now."

Tōshirō exchanges a glance with Rukia. Orihime is staring vacantly at Ichigo's unmoving body. "Has he said anything?" Tōshirō asks.

"That's the thing, Captain Hitsugaya," Kiyone says quietly, "He hasn't said a word at all."

* * *

In Hueco Mundo, several miles outside Las Noches, in a sand dune as large as a house, there lies the unmoving, spread-eagled body of a young man. The impact of his body being flung into the sand dune had created a crater the size of a small pool. The cascading sand has covered his body somewhat but the dark blue of his jeans and orange of his hair are still clearly visible.

After laying unmoving in the sand for an unknown amount of time, the splayed fingers of the man start to twitch. His hand curls into a fist, bracing itself on the sand in an effort to get up only to sink further in. A bit of flailing around later and the man manages to get his knees under him, displacing the sand on his back.

He shakes himself, preparing to stand when a white foot lands itself on the back of his head with just enough force to shove his face back into the sand.

"Well, well, well," an oddly familiar purring voice says from above him. "We meet again, Ichigo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a weird couple of weeks where my time has been dominated by work and research, putting off said work and research but not doing anything else, becoming incredibly anxious by all of that and then actually doing all of that work and research in a scandalously short amount of time.
> 
> But, I can breathe now, so you get this. As you can tell, it's…a bit different. I'm going to keep it as short as possible so it's manageable but it's relatively complex and will probably spiral out of my control. We shall see.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day! (~￣▽￣)~


	2. Chapter 2

Though they had spent several years together at the Tenth Division, Tōshirō has two memories of Shiba Isshin that stick out: the first and last time he had seen the Captain.

The first time he had seen Captain Shiba was in his last days at the Shin'o Academy.

As a special student, Tōshirō had the privilege of meeting each of the Gotei Thirteen Captains one-on-one in a private meeting. Momo had pouted in jealousy for many days over this.

"I can't believe you get to see Aizen-senpai in the flesh," she complained for what Tōshirō mentally noted was the ninth time. Unimpressed, he didn't lift his gaze from the manuscript he was reading, rolling the scroll leisurely in his hands.

"You will, too," he pointed out to her, also for the ninth time.

"It's not the same," she whined, and Tōshirō could recite her following rant word for word by now. "I have to stand around in a room with all the other captains, lieutenants and advanced students and _hope_ he even catches a glimpse of me. You get to sit and have _tea_ with him. How is that the same? How am I supposed to make an impression on him while standing next to people like Renji and Izuru? What are my chances of getting into the Fifth Division if he doesn't even know I exist?"

Well, that last part was new.

"Pretty good," Tōshirō told her. "All you have to do is pass their entrance exam. Even you can do that."

Momo pouted even more, cheeks rounding out like those times when she tried to hoard too many pieces of candy so she wouldn't have to share with him.

"I hear Captain Aizen hand-picks all of his recruits," she said. "I don't want to be just a name on a sheet of paper."

"I highly doubt Captains have the time or luxury to do that," he replied. "And you won't just be a name on a piece of paper," he rolled the scroll back up and got to his feet, tapping her condescendingly on the head with it, "This weird face will be on it, too."

"You—"

Tōshirō walked away from her.

His meeting with Captain Aizen would be his seventh for that week. He had already met with the Captains from Divisions Three, Four, Eight, Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen and though Tōshirō hadn't made up his mind about which Division he wanted to join, a few could be eliminated right off the bat.

His kido might be exceptional but the Fourth was not where he could see himself using it. Captain Kurotsuchi had scouted him for his so called genius but Tōshirō had no interest in whatever they got up to at the Twelfth. Likewise, Captain Kenpachi had broken an entire tea set challenging him in their meeting in an attempt to determine if Tōshirō's reputation for being some kind of reincarnated god was true or not. Needless to say, that meeting had ended abruptly.

The others had managed to pique his interest, though.

However, Captain Ichimaru seemed to be an acquired taste Tōshirō wasn't sure he could acquire, and though Captain Kyoraku was somehow fascinating in his laziness, Division Eight just seemed a bit…boring.

The person Tōshirō had connected to the most so far had been Captain Ukitake, even if he had taken to calling him Shiro-chan almost immediately, amused by their similarities. And damn if Tōshirō hadn't been caught up in that similarity too.

The Captain was experienced, easy-going and didn't seem to have any red flags. There was his illness, but that was understandable. And it so happened that the Thirteenth Division didn't have a lieutenant. The ambition in Tōshirō liked this a lot.

The Fifth Division also didn't have a lieutenant at the moment, which while tempting, was a little less desirable given that he knew how much Momo wished to join Aizen's division. Not that he minded being in the same division as Momo but they both had similar aspirations and, well, it might be better if there was some distance between them.

Still, Tōshirō didn't want to leave a bad impression. He was early by a good ten minutes so he was surprised to find Captain Aizen already waiting for him in the room.

"Hitsugaya Tōshirō," The Captain smiled at him. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

Tōshirō hastily bowed. "Sorry to have kept you waiting, Captain Aizen."

Aizen waved away his apology and gestured for him to sit. "No, no, no, it's not your fault. I'm usually early for these things. Force of habit."

Their first cup of tea passed with Tōshirō answering Aizen's light questions about his grades, performance at school and things of that nature. Tōshirō had done this with nearly all of the captains before. He took the time to form his own opinion of the Captain.

Objectively, he could see why Momo was so enamoured with the man. Though it wasn't the same for Tōshirō, he could admit that Aizen was very likeable. He wasn't as ostentatious as most of the other captains—actually, he appeared rather bland by comparison, but there was a keen intelligence behind his glasses that, while not immediately noticeable, was impossible to ignore after you did notice it.

Aizen poured himself another cup of tea, graciously refilling Tōshirō's cup as well.

"There's something I would like to ask you," the Captain said to him. "It's something I ask everyone I work closely with. I know this recruitment process will end in a lower-ranked seated position at most, but as you probably know, I am in need of a lieutenant and I do believe you would be well-fitted for the position."

Tōshirō looked at him in surprise. Despite his evident abilities and potential to be incredibly powerful (he had all but mastered his shikai, after all) not even Kenpachi had outright offered him a seated position, let alone as a lieutenant.

Though there was no level of cronyism that could guarantee him the position before he passed the lieutenant's exam, Aizen's offer implied that no matter what seat he started at, he would still be groomed to be lieutenant.

"What's your question?" he asked.

"It's a hypothetical situation," Aizen replied, "Let's say one day I must ask you to kill someone."

Tōshirō straightened up. Aizen had said it bluntly, conversationally, his countenance never wavering. He caught Tōshirō's eyes and smiled reassuringly. "This person is someone you have no reason to believe deserves to die," he went on calmly, "But I tell you that if this person lives, many others will die. There's no time for me to explain my reasoning but the decision is ultimately yours to make. What do you do?"

The Captain took a measured sip of his tea. Tōshirō remained quiet, trying to figure out what kind of trick the question had behind it.

Aizen chuckled. "Before you answer, you should know that there is no right or wrong answer," he said. "I am more interested in why you make the choice that you do."

"I don't kill them," Tōshirō answered immediately.

Captain Aizen's face didn't change. He arched one eyebrow. "Oh? And why is that?"

"There are too many unknowns," Tōshirō explained. "How does killing one person save the lives of others? What do their lives and deaths mean? What is the connection between him and them? If he's not immediately endangering that group of people and I have the ability to kill him I should also have the ability to restrain him instead. And if he's not the direct cause of their death, then who or what is? Who's pulling the strings in this situation? No offence, Captain Aizen, but no one is above manipulation. I won't kill anyone without reason."

"Well said," Aizen congratulated him. "You have a very bright future ahead of you, Hitsugaya-kun." His tone implied that the Captain was duly impressed by his answer, yet at the same time, Tōshirō thought he could detect disappointment in the man before him.

Something Tōshirō would never know is that he had cemented himself in Aizen's conscious as someone who asked too many questions. He thought too much, and Aizen considered this a pity.

The Captain looked like he wanted to say more but from somewhere outside the room, a booming voice could be heard:

"I'm not lost, Rangiku, I know exactly where I am."

There was a pause. And then:

"What building are we in, again? Oh, never mind, I found it."

Although he was somewhat expecting it, the door being flung open still made Tōshirō jump. Standing in the doorway was a tall, broad man. His haori told Tōshirō that he was a Captain but he wasn't one Tōshirō had ever seen before.

"Captain Aizen," the man said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Before Aizen could reply, a slender elbow viciously pushed the unknown man to the side. It was Matsumoto fighting her way into the room.

"I told you," she snapped at the man. "Today isn't our day. Apologize to Captain Aizen." And she, with one hand on her hip, pointed a manicured finger at Captain Aizen, who was sipping amusedly at his tea.

The man looked sheepish. "Sorry, Sosuke," he obediently apologized.

"It's alright," Aizen returned smilingly. "Hitsugaya-kun and I were just discussing a few brain-teasers, if you will. Hitsugaya-kun, this is Captain Shiba of the Tenth Division."

Tōshirō hastily got to his feet and bowed to Captain Shiba. His mouth opened to greet the man but before he could get a word out, a large arm grabbed his shoulder and pulled him bodily before Captain Shiba, who proceeded to turn him this way and that, inspecting him like he was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out.

"So you're Hitsugaya Tōshirō. I heard you've got a dragon for a zanpakuto. You really can't judge a scroll by its bindings, huh?"

Tōshirō, whose head had been slung around his neck like a ragdoll, couldn't reply. It was Matsumoto who eventually grabbed him and tugged him free.

Captain Shiba plopped himself down next to Aizen. "Well, since we're here."

Matsumoto put Tōshirō's head back in its normal orientation and said to him lowly, "You have to forgive my captain, he really wanted to meet you. And there's a stack of paperwork on his desk that he's pretending doesn't exist."

"You don't mind, do you, Sosuke?" Shiba asked, brazenly pouring himself a cup of tea.

Captain Aizen chuckled, patting the other man companionably on his back. "Not at all."

Tōshirō allowed Matsumoto to guide him back to his seat as his vision evened out. So this was Matsumoto's Captain. The man couldn't help but take up space, even though he wasn't especially bigger than Aizen. His booming voice was warm and he smiled as much as Aizen did but more boyishly and somehow, even more genuine.

"So," he said to Tōshirō, "What do you think about joining the Tenth Division? We've got Rangiku and we've got…well, we've got Rangiku. She knows where all the best watering holes in Seireitei are, and her elbows are sharp like knives." The Captain massaged his side with a grimace.

Matsumoto threw her Captain a glare. "How is that supposed to get him interested in the Division?"

Aizen hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps you should try getting to know Hitsugaya-kun first?" he said helpfully. "Why don't you ask him a few questions, Captain Shiba?"

"Get to know him, huh?" Shiba stroked his chin, catching Tōshirō's gaze with an unexpectedly serious expression. For some reason, the thought of Captain Shiba's questions made him more nervous than Aizen's had.

"I've got a question for you," Shiba went on with gravity. "It's the most important question when it comes to the Tenth Division. If you can't answer this question correctly, then you'll never be fit for my division."

"Captain—" Matsumoto protested but Captain Shiba raised his hand to silence her, his eyes on Tōshirō unwavering. Even Aizen looked a bit startled by this.

Tōshirō didn't look away. Captain Shiba's face cracked a smile.

"Can you do paperwork?"

* * *

"We think it was some kind of gang initiation."

Isshin tells them this from the front seat of the Kurosaki family car. The car is modest and somewhat small. Isshin had to fold his body to get in, one elbow propped on the open window so he can hold onto the roof of the car. Tōshirō, Rukia and Byakuya were left to stuff themselves into the back seat. Rukia had graciously allowed herself to be sandwiched in between the two men. The Shinigami are all in their gigais so in addition to being shoulder to shoulder with her, Tōshirō also has to endure that Rukia had chosen an above-knee skirt for her gigai and now her leg is pressed against his. If Tōshirō had the space to turn his head and see Byakuya's own discomfort, he might have felt a little bit better.

From the driver's seat, Orihime nods her head. "The police told me at the hospital that there's been a string of them lately, so it probably had nothing to do with Ichigo himself. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Tōshirō delicately tries to move his cramping leg in a way that Rukia won't notice. The way she moves her own leg away from him to Byakuya's foot space tells him he's failed.

"What will come of the investigation?" he asks. "Ichigo's technically no longer a victim."

Orihime sighs. "We've managed to forge the medical records to say he was shot in the shoulder," she explains. "Captain Kurotsuchi also said he did something to the first responders and emergency room doctors and nurses that worked on Ichigo so they corroborate this."

"Memory modifying kido," Rukia tells her, "Normally forbidden, but I guess the Head Captain considered it necessary. What about the person who shot him?"

In the rear view mirror, Tōshirō catches Orihime's grimace. "Probably a teenager," she says. "That's usually the age for gang initiations. It's in our best interest not to pursue it but it's unlikely the police will catch him or his organization otherwise."

"Kisuke's working on it, though," Isshin adds. "The least we can do is find the kid and make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else."

"And how exactly does he intend to do that?" Byakuya asks suspiciously.

Isshin turns his head in the other man's general direction. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Byakuya" he replies. "Kisuke is only going to talk to the boy. These kids only join these gangs because they have no other choice. If we can figure that out we can very well prevent someone else from having a similar fate."

Tōshirō didn't see Byakuya's face at the word _panties_ , but his following silence is heavy with displeasure. Beside him, Rukia coughs lightly. When Tōshirō looks down at her he catches the amused side-glance she gives him.

"We're here," Orihime announces.

For how little time he had spent in the human world, Tōshirō wouldn't have guessed that the old Kurosaki clinic could feel nostalgic. But his memories of this place are wholly secluded to one particular period of time that now feels like it was a lifetime ago. The building's been painted over and is showing its age but for the most part, it looks the same as it always has.

Orihime pulls into the driveway as the front door opens. Yuzu is wearing pyjamas, barefoot, and clutching a knitted blanket around her shoulders. In the yellow glow of the outside light, she looks all of ten years old.

"Orihime-nee," she calls out, "Did something happen?"

"No, Yuzu," Orihime gets out of the car and tells her somewhat tiredly. "Ichigo's still in the hospital."

"Daddy's here, too, Yuzu-chan."

Yuzu ignores Isshin, looking past him. "Rukia-nee-san? Is that you?"

Now a few inches taller than the other girl, Rukia can comfortably rest her chin on her head when they hug. "Hey, Yuzu. Have you been good?"

"I could be better," Yuzu replies, voice a little muffled.

Inside the house, Yuzu gestures for them to sit, busying herself in the kitchen. It's a bit before sunrise now and the place is quiet.

"Kazui is supposed to be sleeping," Orihime says. "I'll go get him."

"He's right here, Orihime-san."

Halfway down the stairs stands Karin. She's holding the hand of a small boy in brightly coloured pyjamas clutching a familiar stuffed lion. His round brown eyes are looking at the Shinigami with uneasiness. Tōshirō had only met this child once. Back then, Kazui had been no bigger than a loaf of bread.

Karin gently nudges the boy down the rest of the stairs. The stuffed lion turns his head around to look at the people in the room.

"Nee-san!" Kon wails, though his voice is appropriately lowered in the gloomy atmosphere. "You came back!"

Kazui holds the toy even closer, looking at Rukia with obvious curiosity and the kind of recognition gained from knowing about someone but never having met them.

Orihime guides her son into the living room. By Tōshirō's recollection, the boy isn't quite seven years old yet. He's still small enough to sit in his mother's lab. Yuzu comes back into the room with a tray of refreshments and the Kurosakis and Shinigami sit and exchange information.

Kazui doesn't utter a word throughout. He's curled into Orihime and doesn't let go of Kon, who himself seems surprisingly content to be cuddled. The boy's eyes don't leave Rukia.

"What does it matter if Ichigo is in his Shinigami form or not?" Karin asks. She directs this question, surprisingly, to Byakuya.

Byakuya explains, "Shinigami are tracked by their spiritual pressure. Most other souls do not have any or enough spiritual pressure to be tracked through traditional methods. When Kurosaki is not in his Shinigami form he may still retain some of his reiatsu but it will be far weaker. This may not be a problem to find him in the Rukongai but if he is in Hueco Mundo like we suspect he is, the interference from Hollow and Arrancar spirits will pose a significant problem. Our only option is to search for him manually, which is what Renji has set out to do. Unfortunately, Hueco Mundo is too large to be searched strategically with few people and too dangerous for most of the lower ranked Shinigami that make up the search squads. If Ichigo is a normal soul then he won't be able to travel far. Once the Twelfth Division confirms where he likely entered Hueco Mundo, we can focus search efforts there. We have a much better chance of finding him this way."

Yuzu looks at them worriedly. "If Ichigo doesn't have his Shinigami powers then how will he defend himself?"

Tōshirō exchanges a glance with Rukia. "He can't," she says truthfully. "But even without them, he should be able to handle at least the weaker Hollows. And we do have Arrancar allies in Hueco Mundo. His body is still holding on so there's a chance one of them got to him first."

"Well, how can you even know for sure that Ichigo isn't a Shinigami?" Karin asks her.

And Rukia's eyes move to Kazui. Tōshirō follows her gaze to the boy.

Despite being their child, Tōshirō finds it somewhat remarkable that Kazui is a perfect mix of both Ichigo and Orihime—he's exactly half of each parent. He looks like a smaller version of Ichigo, spikey orange hair and all, but he has his mother's round and soft face. Soul Society has been monitoring this child since he'd been born. Tōshirō knows he had inherited his father's Shinigami powers but he's too young for anyone to really know to what extent.

Kazui blinks back at them. Rukia smiles gently at him. "Kazui-kun," she calls to him, "You know who I am, don't you?"

Kazui hesitates to reply and Kon wiggles in his arms. "That's Rukia-nee-san," he whispers loudly to the boy. Kazui nods.

Rukia leans forward in her seat, her elbows resting on her knees. She extends a hand to him. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Kazui has to extract his arm somewhat awkwardly from between his and his mother's bodies to shake her hand but he does.

"You've been having kind of a bad day, huh?"

He nods.

"Worried about your dad?"

Kon makes a quickly stifled squeak as Kazui's grip on him tightens. The boy nods again, his eyes doing that terrible thing children's eyes do when they can't articulate the vastness of their sadness.

"Daddy needs your help, Kazui-kun," Orihime tells him. "This big sister needs to know what happened in the parking lot."

Tōshirō personally thinks Rukia is more of an aunt to the boy than a big sister but Rukia doesn't seem to mind.

"Do you think you can tell me what you saw?" she asks.

And for a moment, Kazui opens his mouth to say something but then Tōshirō sees his eyes fade from focus, like he's thinking back to that moment, and his little body goes stiff. There's obvious fear, panic and anxiety in his expression and his mouth slams shut. The boy doesn't cry, but he comes very close.

Orihime holds him closer, looking torn herself. She tells Rukia, "He gets like this every time anyone brings it up. I don't like the idea of pushing him too much either."

Tōshirō begins to say, "Unfortunately—" only to have Rukia's swift hand land upon his knee, giving it a painless but firm squeeze clearly meant to convey that he should shut up. He does.

"That's alright," she says, "How about I just ask you a few questions? All you have to do is nod or shake your head. It's fine to just answer the questions you want to. Is that alright?"

Rukia hadn't discussed this strategy with Tōshirō or Byakuya beforehand but between the three of them, Kazui is probably best left in her hands.

Kazui seems to calm down at her soothing voice. He nods again.

"You've seen your dad as a Shinigami, right?" is Rukia's first question and Kazui gives her a nod.

"With his stupid shoulder pads and big sword, right?"

Kazui cracks a smile. His nod is a little more enthusiastic.

"You've seen how he turns into a Shinigami, right? Yeah? Did you see your dad like that yesterday?" Rukia asks him delicately.

He wavers this time, his brow furrowing. He makes a soft whining noise that clearly distresses everyone in the room. Tōshirō didn't have much experience with children but even he felt a parental instinct he hadn't known even existed within him.

Rukia exchanges a glance with Tōshirō and Byakuya.

Kazui calms down with some gentle encouragement from his mother.

"Kazui-kun, did you see your father's soul yesterday?" Rukia asks him and he nods.

"Was he a Shinigami then?"

Kazui watches Rukia for a moment with a surprisingly serious expression before he opens his mouth: "No."

* * *

Kazui doesn't say anything else. The boy is exhausted and emotionally wrought and Orihime takes him up to bed. Tōshirō and Byakuya set up a video monitor in the Kurosaki living room to report back to Soul Society and Karin offers to go to Urahara's shop to retrieve the man so he can open a Senkaimon to Hueco Mundo. Rukia helps Yuzu gather up the dishes and follows her into the kitchen.

When Urahara arrives, Byakuya and Isshin join him outside, leaving Tōshirō alone in the living room. Karin comes through the door, sees him, closes the door with a bang and stomps out of the room.

She does all of this before Tōshirō can open his mouth to say her name. She and Yuzu cross paths at the kitchen doorway, Yuzu coming back to collect the remaining dishes.

"Does your sister still hate me?" he asks Yuzu.

"Karin doesn't hate you," she replies. The clink of plates touching each other as she stacks them in her hands drowns out the reassurance in her voice a bit. "She asks after you all the time."

"I'll have to take your word for it," he sighs.

"To be fair," Yuzu straightens and gives him a look, "You haven't really been around."

Tōshirō looks away from her. "Been busy," he mumbles.

Yuzu hums but doesn't say anything in response. "Will you take this into the kitchen for me?" she asks, and hands him the plates. "Kazui hasn't eaten anything so I'm going to take a snack up to him."

Tōshirō would rather not go into the kitchen right then but Yuzu doesn't give him much of a choice. He approaches the doorway, leaning in to see inside before he enters.

Rukia has her back to him, her hands in a sink of dishes. Karin is leaning against a kitchen counter, diligently drying a drinking glass with a terrycloth towel. Like all the other Kurosakis today, Karin's tiredness seems to be imbued into her skin, but the rising sun bleeding into the room exacerbates it. She looks like she never went to bed, still in her jeans and old soccer T-shirt. She's taller than Yuzu now but as the twins grow older, they seem more and more different.

Tōshirō hesitates stepping into the room and stops himself completely when Karin starts to speak.

"I didn't know you were good with kids," she says.

Rukia calmly replies, "I imagine it's easier when they aren't yours."

"That's true," Karin agrees. "Ichigo and Orihime-san do a great job with Kazui. He doesn't need his aunts to parent him, though Yuzu still tries. Me, I get to be the fun aunt. He lost his first tooth because of me."

Rukia turns her head in Karin's direction, no doubt giving her a stare.

"It was already wobbling," the girl defends herself. "No harm, no foul. He's gotta lose them all eventually. And hey, the Tooth Fairy gave him a hundred yen for it. I'd say he was fairly compensated."

Rukia laughs. "He's lucky to have you, Karin. And Yuzu. He seems like a good kid."

"Yeah, we're a regular, happy, little family," Karin says, looking down at the drinking glass.

Rukia ignores the inflection in her tone and says, "Good, that's all I ever wanted."

"Me too," Karin admits, and then quietly adds, "But, Ruki-nee, I always thought it was going to be you."

Yes, Tōshirō had once thought it was going to be Rukia, too. He sets the dishes down where they'll be easily found and goes outside. Urahara is still working on the Senkaimon, Byakuya silently observing. Isshin is sitting on the sidewalk. He watches Tōshirō approach and pats the space next to him. Tōshirō stops beside him, a decent amount of space between them, but doesn't sit.

"Who'd have thought a scrawny kid like you could grow to be so tall," Isshin tells him. "And so handsome, too. I guess I owe Rangiku that bottle of sake after all."

Tōshirō decides that he'll keep calling him Captain Shiba.

"Captain Shiba," he acknowledges the man politely.

Isshin waves his hand in dismissal. "No need for the formalities. I should be calling _you_ Captain. I'm not _going_ to, but I do know." Which would have been fine with Tōshirō, if he didn't immediately follow up with: "And I'm very proud of you."

Tōshirō lets out a breath of air and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Thanks," he manages. "You seem to have done well yourself."

Isshin hums thoughtfully. "Probably couldn't have done better even if I tried."

Tōshirō is blessedly saved from responding to this by the door opening behind him. Rukia comes to stand between the two of them.

"Is it ready?" she asks.

"Almost," Isshin replies. As he says this, Byakuya gestures them over.

"My shop has been missing its favourite customer," Urahara says to Rukia. "As a matter of fact, we just got a…" he casts a glance over at Byakuya, "…a—an _interesting_ , yes, interesting, shipment of… _goods_. That's right. Feel free to stop by."

Rukia folds her arms, but she's more amused than put out when she says, "Of course you're trying to scam me. You haven't changed, Kisuke. Although," she squints at him, "I do think I see a silver hair in there."

"Ha, ha, ha," Urahara holds his hat closer to his head and points at the Senkaimon. "Lieutenant Akon has managed to narrow down the location where Ichigo likely entered Hueco Mundo. This," he hands Tōshirō a thin metal ring, "Will open a one-time Senkaimon gate. It will bring the two of you, as well as Ichigo and Lieutenant Abarai, directly to Ichigo's hospital room when you find him. It will only remain open for sixty seconds after you've activated it. While we're able to track you, we won't be able to tell when you've actually found Ichigo. I've seen his condition myself. At most, you have five days. If you haven't returned by then, Captain Kuchiki here will come get you."

"As you know," Byakuya says, "Communication between Hueco Mundo and Soul Society is almost impossible. Any trouble you run into, you'll have to handle yourself. I suggest you guard that ring well."

Tōshirō looks over at Rukia. The girl merely nods, throwing her head back to swallow the soul candy that will take her out of her gigai.

"Understood," he says to Byakuya, following suit.

Rukia goes through the gate first. In the brief second that passes before Toshiro follows her, he glances back at the house. From the corner of his eyes he sees the curtain in the upstairs window fall back into place but the gate is already closing behind him before he can think more about it.

* * *

There's a reason Ichigo isn't a big fan of the beach. It's the sand.

He can tolerate the scorching heat. He can withstand the salty wind battering his body and flapping his clothes hard enough to give him whiplash. He can even get by the feeling of what he'd convinced himself are unknown sea monsters but is probably just seaweed touching him while he's in the water. These things are small potatoes.

The big potato is the sand. As someone had once moodily said, it's coarse, and rough, and irritating, and it gets everywhere.

Ichigo feels like the sand is about to kill him, never mind the fact that he's running for his life and the sand has (almost) nothing to do with it.

"I would say you can run but you can't hide, but it doesn't seem like you can do either," the blue-haired man says from somewhere behind him. On cue, Ichigo stumbles. The blue-haired man aims a kick at his head and Ichigo surprises himself by evading it, taking off running again.

"What the fuck man, I don't even know you!"

"THE FUCK YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW ME?!"

This goes on for a bit longer. Ichigo keeps running and avoiding the other man's attacks but he doesn't seem to go anywhere. The desert landscape doesn't change. It's almost like he's running in place and Ichigo is growing tired.

He pauses for a moment to catch his breath and a sharp blade almost imbeds itself into his chest. He dodges it by a millisecond.

"Just—"

The blade swipes at his head and he ducks.

"—let—"

Another swipe.

"—me—"

Swipe.

"—kill—"

Swipe.

"—you—"

The blade manages to nick Ichigo's shoulder. His body reacts before he can even register the pain and he grabs the man's arm. He only meant to pull the man forward enough to take him off his feet but instead, Ichigo is somehow able to swing the man over his head in a wide arc and toss him to the ground several hundred yards away, sending a wave of sand up into the sky.

Ichigo freezes, staring at the spot where he thinks the man's body is, desperately looking for movement. A full minute passes by where nothing happens and so Ichigo trudges forward. The man's body has created a trough in the sand. At the deep end of it lies the man's still form. He's alive, unmoving by choice, with one arm draped over his eyes.

For the first time, Ichigo can observe him. The blue colour of his hair is the most noticeable thing about him, even when he's wearing some kind of strange Halloween mask and weird suit.

As Ichigo's shadow falls over him, the man says, "You've outgrown me, Ichigo."

Ichigo scratches the back of his head—there's sand there.

"Sorry man. I didn't know that I could do that. But you were trying to kill me and all, so we can call it even. By the way, how do you know my name? And what is this place and why am I here?"

The fingers of the man's hand part so he can stare at Ichigo with one startlingly blue eye. Ichigo genuinely wants to know and he can tell the exact moment the man realizes he's serious.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be shitting me."

* * *

Grimmjow had never enjoyed having Fraccion. They were convenient for when he needed to kill something but they were otherwise useless annoyances. He had no time or patience for pets.

"Stop following me!" he barks over his shoulder, trudging through the sand, determined to get away.

Ichigo doesn't stop. "What else am I supposed to do?" he asks.

Without looking back, the blue-haired man—Grimmjow, he'd reminded Ichigo through gritted teeth, not that it rang any bells—waves his hands around vaguely but with urgency. "Call your friends in Soul Society or something, I don't know. Just stop following me!"

"For the last time, I don't know what you're talking about!" Ichigo snaps back at him, irritated now. "I'm just a fifteen year old boy who has a math exam on Monday and this is the most bizarre dream I've ever had and you are the least helpful apparition I've ever met."

Grimmjow stops and spins around to face him, causing Ichigo to stop as well. He points his katana-like sword at Ichigo's face and says, " _This_ isn't a dream. You are in _Hueco Mundo_. _You_ are a Shinigami and an old. Ass. Man. Not some fifteen year old teenager."

Ichigo looks down at his hands. They don't seem old to him but he can't remember if they'd always been this big or had these many callouses. He touches his face but can't tell anything by what he feels.

With his face sandwiched between his two hands, Ichigo asks, "What do you mean I'm an old man?"

Grimmjow's eye twitches. "Just look at your face," he scoffs, "How can you still call yourself a teenager?"

To which Ichigo points out, "I can't see my own face. Describe it for me."

Grimmjow stares at him. He seems to consider it for a moment but then catches himself. "Describe your own face!" he barks at Ichigo and stomps off again. "And don't follow me!"

Ichigo, of course, plans to keep following Grimmjow but the other man must have known this because he disappears from Ichigo's eyes in a cloud of sand. Bewildered, Ichigo tries to find him but it's like the man had evaporated.

Ichigo has already figured out that this isn't a dream. Everything is too real. The last thing he can remember is coming home from school and heading straight to bed. He had seen the ghost of the little girl who'd died in that car accident last week for the first time. There was a memorial put up there for her and Ichigo had checked it every day since to see if she'd show up. She had, unfortunately.

Children were always the worst. They usually didn't know what had happened to them and most of the times when he explained, they didn't believe him. It always wore him out, trying to convince them to move on to wherever they were supposed to go and he just didn't have the strength left in him that evening to do more than collapse on his bed.

Ichigo can tell that Grimmjow is some kind of ghost. He seems a lot more substantial than a regular ghost but he's still clearly a ghost.

The desert Ichigo's in is also obviously not a human place either. Never mind how he got there, the moon in this place hasn't changed position since he'd first seen it. It's clearly night and there are no streetlights anywhere but Ichigo can still see around him as if it's during the day.

More than all of this, though, is the static electricity he can feel in the air. Like everything else, it feels incredibly familiar but he can't quite figure it out.

Ichigo decides to go forward in the direction Grimmjow had been heading in. He only gets a couple hundred yards before the ground beneath him starts to shake. The sand beneath his feet feels like it's been turned to water, rising up under him until he falls back.

Ichigo lands hard, blocking the sand raining down with a raised arm. He can see indistinctly a small mountain appear before him before all the sand falls away to reveal a giant man standing there with a gaping hole in his chest and column-like arms and legs that disappear into the sand.

"Intruder!" the giant booms, his empty eyes staring down at Ichigo. He lifts a hand, a torrent of sand raining down. "Runuganga will not allow you to pass—"

Like a shot arrow, something whizzes through the air and completely blows the giant's head away. Ichigo crawls away from the falling sand and looks around to find Grimmjow standing in the air with a smoking finger pointing at the giant.

Horrifically, the giant's head starts to regrow. Grimmjow, however, doesn't seem concerned.

"Grimm—jow," the giant's half formed mouth wails.

"Get out of here, Runuganga," Grimmjow tells the giant dully. "I found him first, this one is mine."

The giant, Runuganga, gnashes its teeth at Grimmjow but reluctantly sinks back into the sand. Grimmjow suddenly appears before Ichigo.

"You really don't remember anything?" he asks, eyes narrowing as he inspects Ichigo's face.

"For the last time," Ichigo says as calmly as he can—there's sand at the back of his throat and in his airways. He meets Grimmjow's scowl with one of his own. "No."

Grimmjow leans back away from him. "You Shinigami are a real pain in the ass," he says and points a finger at him, "Especially _you_ Ichigo. Come on, I'm going to take you to Las Noches." He drops his arm, unequivocally adding, "But only so I don't have to deal with you. Now, get your ass up."

And Ichigo can probably make a better decision than to follow this strange man who'd been trying to kill him not that long ago, and who was also carrying a sword and some kind of other power, but—.

He gets to his feet. "Lead the way," he says to Grimmjow.

"Just so we're keeping track, you now owe me two favours," Grimmjow tells him pointedly as he turns and begins to walk away. "One for saving your skin now, and one for saving your Shinigami asses from those Quincy bastards."

Ichigo jogs to catch up to him. The sneakers he's wearing make his feet feel heavy in the sand. He somewhat envies the weird sandals Grimmjow is wearing.

"Did you really save me?" he asks.

"Of course I did," Grimmjow scoffs at him and then proceeds to tell Ichigo a story he wouldn't have believed if, for some reason, it didn't sound all too familiar. Grimmjow tells him about some bastard called Aizen and how he'd had all the power he could have ever needed and he still managed to fuck up his masterplan that no one ever really understood but him. Grimmjow goes on a rant about the simplicity of just killing your enemies over playing mind games and how Ichigo is lucky he's a man of honour because it's the only reason Grimmjow hasn't taken advantage of his lapse in memory and skewered him with Pantera—which Ichigo is able to discern is the name of Grimmjow's katana.

The more Grimmjow talks, the more Ichigo becomes less convinced he's still that fifteen year old kid he'd been thinking he is.

While nothing Grimmjow tells him jolts any of what are clearly his lost memories back into existence, they tickle the part of Ichigo's brain that stores factual information. For instance, Grimmjow mentions the word _Arrancar_ , and though Ichigo can't picture an Arrancar, he knows immediately what they are. Grimmjow is clearly an Arrancar.

At some point, Ichigo begins to wonder if Grimmjow has no one to talk to. It takes very little prompting on Ichigo's part to get the other man to rant about this and that, within which Ichigo is able to collect valuable information.

Hueco Mundo is a part of, more or less, the underworld. Specifically, it's where damaged souls go. Ichigo's realization of this comes with a sudden stinging pain between his eyes. He stops so abruptly that Grimmjow pauses his spiel about another bastard named Askin to look at him.

"Holy shit," Ichigo says quietly. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this story obviously doesn’t follow the events of the ten year time jump in the manga. However, it also doesn’t really follow the timeline of those ten years either. And I’ve been having a hard time remembering this story’s timeline (that I made up, lol) and I presume it’s a little confusing for readers too. So, I’m going to write it out here, for you and for me.
> 
> 11 years ago – Yhwah’s defeat.
> 
> 10 years ago (in the year immediately after Yhwah’s defeat) – some shit goes down, Ichigo is 18.
> 
> 8 years ago (3 years after Yhwah’s defeat) – Ichigo and Orihime get married, both 20.
> 
> 7 years ago (4 years after Yhwah’s defeat) – Kazui is born.
> 
> There will therefore be quite a few flashbacks and since I'm not a fan of signallers like Ten years ago… or italicizing whole sections of a story because the events are supposed to have happened prior to the story's setting, I'm trying to weave them in as subtly and organically as possible. But if this is confusing and you prefer for the flashbacks to be explicitly delimitated, just let me know. There's no point to it if it just confuses you, so feel free to tell me.
> 
> I’ve noticed that my instinct is almost always to focus on Rukia and her tragic backstory. So, this time, I wanted to explore Tōshirō’s (less tragic but still interesting) backstory and hence the—(gestures vaguely).
> 
> Sorry Aizen, Tōshirō is a leader, not a follower.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A splash of IchiRuki and more of that poor use of flashbacks as a story-telling device.

Tōshirō had always thought of Rukia as flighty but only because he never felt like he had any hold on her. Even now while standing shoulder to shoulder with her, it feels like Rukia could be standing anywhere else in the vast desert around them than next to him. He watches as she walks forward, sharp eyes looking around them.

He wonders if he could have made her come back.

He does know for a fact that if it had been him, if his life had been in danger, if he had needed her help, she'd come. But that would be true for a number of people; Tōshirō is just one of them.

He wonders if he had asked her back then if she would have stayed. And if he had gone looking for her in the ten years since then if she'd have followed him back.

"This place seems familiar," Rukia comments, her eyes narrowed.

Tōshirō, looking around at the flat and unchangeable terrain, can't see why. When he turns back to Rukia, she's standing with her eyes closed, meditating.

For the first time, Tōshirō allows himself to really look at her. He takes back what he'd originally thought. She had changed, if only very subtly. Rukia is calmer, steadier, and stronger.

As he's looking, her eyes open, and he doesn't have the time to pretend he wasn't just staring at her.

"Nothing," she says. "I can't feel him at all."

"That's not surprising," Tōshirō says. "It's impossible to find a normal soul in this place with all the reishi in the atmosphere."

Rukia nods. "We should split up," she tells him and Tōshirō blinks at her.

"What?"

She points vaguely in a direction. At the end of her finger is a bump on the horizon. "Las Noches is that way," she informs him. "You should go and see if anyone there has seen Ichigo or anything out of the ordinary. I'll look around here. We'll cover all of our bases this way."

Tōshirō gives her a flat look. "Now is not the time to be getting rid of me," he deadpans. "We stay together."

"If I wanted to get rid of you, I'd kill you," she tells him sweetly. "But since time is of the essence, I think it's best if we cover as much ground as possible and we can't do that while we're together."

Tōshirō folds his arms. "It doesn't matter what you think. I'm the Captain, I outrank you, you follow my orders, and I say we're going together. Plus, I have this," and he retrieves the metal ring Urahara had given him.

"Give it to me then," she says and reaches for it. Tōshirō immediately pulls it away.

"Not a chance," he tells her smugly. "While it's true we can cover more ground separately, we have a higher chance of finding Ichigo if we stay together. Splitting up is a stupid idea, Rukia, I expected more of you."

Rukia settles back onto her feet with a frown. "Lieutenant Kuchiki," she corrects him, annoyingly just like her older brother. "And what are _your_ bright ideas then?"

"Obviously, we should—"

Tōshirō stops abruptly, grabbing Rukia by the elbow and pulling her forcefully behind him. He thinks vaguely to himself that there were probably better ways to get her attention and that he shouldn't still have this habit after ten years.

He's not a second too soon, though, as the spot where she'd been standing suddenly bursts open and a pillar of sand rockets up into the air.

"Intruders! Runuganga will not allow you to pass, you garbage bugs—!"

The Hollow's head tilts in Rukia's direction.

"YOU!" he bellows at her, "You insufferable little Shinigami bug!"

"Joy," Rukia mumbles behind Tōshirō. He feels a pat on his back. "Take care of this one, would you?" And she slips out of his hold and shunpoes away to stand a few dozen feet in the air, idly observing.

Runuganga watches her go and for some reason decides not to pursue her, turning his attention to Tōshirō instead.

The Hollow braces his two column-link arms on the ground and leans his long body forward to face Tōshirō. Tōshirō draws his zanpakuto.

"I can't defeat that garbage Shinigami," the Hollow says to him, low voice reverberating in the sand. "But you I can eat you with no problem."

The Hollow's mouth gapes open, widening until its lower jaw starts to sink into the sand and, like a vacuum had suddenly been turned on in its throat, starts to suck up the surrounding sand.

Feeling his legs being pulled from under him, Tōshirō leaps into the air out of range, bringing his sword down diagonally across its face. The upper half of the Hollow's head slides off in a shower of sand.

Tōshirō lands nimbly on his feet and looks over at Rukia. She gives him condescending half smile.

"Fool!"

Tōshirō's head snaps back to Runuganga's still-standing body. Its remaining eye is looking at Tōshirō with contempt, his half mouth tilting up in an eerie smile. Tōshirō watches as millions of grains of sand migrate up his body and reform his head and Tōshirō swears, quickly leaping out of the way of one of Runuganga's boulder-like fists. In the spray of sand he yells over at Rukia—

"How do you defeat him?"

She cups her hands around her mouth and calls back, "Use one of your bright ideas!"

God help him, this girl—

Somewhat embarrassingly, it takes Tōshirō a few more evasive manoeuvres before he figures it out but once he does, one concentrated blast of his reiatsu is enough to take care of the sand Hollow.

"You Shinigami are all the same!" Runuganga wails before his mouth freezes over. In a final-ditch effort, he slams his last unfrozen arm into the ground, opening a sinkhole that quickly pulls Tōshirō into it.

Tōshirō struggles to get his footing, grabbing desperately at the almost liquid walls of sand. A force tugs on his back and he looks up to see Rukia, one hand holding onto his haori firmly.

But it's too late.

"Garbage bugs!" Runuganga's voice wanes as the ice overtakes him. The Hollow falls apart into his own sinkhole, unceremoniously taking Rukia and Tōshirō with him.

When Tōshirō opens his eyes again, he's staring up at unfathomable darkness. At the same time, he feels Rukia land lightly beside him.

"Sorry," she says to him, sheepish, "I forgot he can do that."

Tōshirō sits up and looks around. They're in some kind of underground forest, dark and with trees the size of buildings.

"Where are we?" he asks.

"Forest of Menos," she replies. "It is exactly what it sounds like."

Tōshirō gets to his feet. His zanpakuto is still in his hand and he grips it tightly.

"You can feel it too, right?" he asks Rukia.

"Hmm," she says quietly, "We're being watched."

He scans the area. The forest is rich with the presence of Hollows and he can't comfortably pinpoint or distinguish them.

Rukia suddenly grabs onto his sleeve with enough urgency to startle him. "Toshiro—" she begins, but then cuts herself short.

From behind the tree trunks, several Adjuchas emerge, forming a cautious but aggressive circle around the two Shinigami. One steps forward, his yellow eyes fixed on Rukia.

"It was a mistake for you to return," he says to her.

Tōshirō looks at the girl. Rukia's face is a mixture of exasperation and annoyance. She lets out a sigh. "Ah, shit."

* * *

As an Arrancar, Grimmjow doesn't really need to sleep. He can absorb enough reishi from the environment for energy. Sleeping is merely a force of habit and a way to pass the time.

Human souls, however, needed rest.

Grimmjow's good deed is turning out to be a major pain in the ass, if he hasn't said that before. Getting to Las Noches is not a problem with his sonido, but Pain-In-The-Ass-Extraordinaire-Ichigo doesn't remember how to use sonido or whatever it is Shinigami use, and Grimmjow's sure as hell not going to _carry_ him. So they have to walk. And like the pain in the ass that he is, Ichigo gets tired.

Grimmjow had made some quip about Ichigo being an old ass man but inevitably he'd agreed to stop and let Ichigo take a nap.

So now, the Arrancar has to sit in the shadow of a sand dune and watch Ichigo twitch in his sleep, bored completely out of his mind.

* * *

The night Ginjou died, Ichigo declined staying over at Urahara's. Orihime made sure to heal him, eyes watery but accepting that he neither needed nor wanted her to apologize, and then he went home.

He wanted to be alone, away from Riruka's unmoving body, away from Chad's silence, and away from Orihime's tears.

He showered, even though he didn't really have the strength for it, and then crawled into bed. Maybe it was because of his sheer exhaustion that his normally sharp senses didn't pick up on it but he was already under the covers before he realized there was someone lying next to him.

He turned his head on his pillow and found himself looking at Rukia's sleeping face.

When she wasn't awake and sassing him, or kicking his ass for some arbitrary reason, she looked rather doll-like. Keigo had once called her angelic, a term Ichigo avoided only because of the irony.

But, well.

She was lying with her clasped hands under her cheek, her body bent in the shape of a comma in his direction. The bed definitely wasn't big enough for the two of them but Ichigo turned his head to look at the ceiling and pretended not to notice.

"Do you want me to leave?" she murmured.

Ichigo looked back over at her. Her eyes were open halfway, the little light in the room making them a dark and opaque shade of purple.

Ichigo turned his body to mirror hers, closing his eyes. "If you kick me, I'll lock you in the closet."

Rukia didn't reply but he could still feel her smile in the space between them. He fell asleep almost immediately, wondering if she'd still be there in the morning.

* * *

"Sleeping beauty wakes."

Ichigo sighs, ignoring Grimmjow's scorn, and sits up. "How long was I asleep?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" Grimmjow asks him incredulously. "Do I look like a person who keeps track of the time?"

Ichigo brings his knees up, resting his elbows on them as he yawns. "I don't feel rested," he says.

"That ain't my problem," Grimmjow retorts. He's sitting with his back against a mound of sand, holding what seems to be a block of sandstone, chipping away at it with his katana. Ichigo does not comment on this, deciding instead to save it for later.

He asks Grimmjow, "Do I know someone with dark hair and purple eyes?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know who the fuck you know?"

Ichigo squints his eyes, trying to remember more of his fleeting dream. "They were really…pretty? Like a girl?"

Grimmjow gives him a look but he answers anyway. "Probably that Shinigami Captain, Byakuya or something, but don't expect me to know what colour any man's eyes are, let alone a Shinigami's."

In a fog of remembrance, the name Byakuya brings a rush of images to Ichigo. He catches glimpses of a tall man with dark hair and sharp eyes filled with unbridled hatred, a bloody white coat, and glittering petals. These brief visions don't surprise him as much as the intense dislike that comes with them.

When his mind clears, he asks Grimmjow, "Are Byakuya and I friends?"

To which Grimmjow snorts inelegantly. "The fuck would I know? Now get your ass up. The sooner you can get your memory back, the sooner I can kick your ass."

And Ichigo decides if he could be friends with a man like Grimmjow, he'd probably been friends with this Byakuya person too, especially since the thought of him makes Ichigo feel like, even amongst all the other things he'd forgotten, he's missing something very vital.

* * *

"You can't go anywhere and not cause trouble, can you?"

Tōshirō says this drily to Rukia amidst shunpoing across the upper branches of the trees. Rukia is right next to him, effortlessly keeping up with his Captain-level flash-step. She doesn't reply, instead flashing him a very bright smile before coming to a stop on a branch ahead of them. He joins her as she looks back in the direction they'd been fleeing from.

"I think we lost them," she says.

Tōshirō looks around. The bramble of branches provide good cover and there doesn't seem to be anything lurking around nearby. When he turns back to Rukia, she's in the middle of putting up a kido barrier around them.

He raises an eyebrow at her. "What are you doing?"

"I think we should rest for a while," she tells him. "I won't be much help finding Ichigo when I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours. And if you still get to your office at the same time as I remember, then it's been even longer for you."

"It's almost impossible to tell the passage of time in Hueco Mundo," he reminds her. "And we can't afford to lose too much time."

To which Rukia extends her arm to him, pulling up the sleeve of her shihakusho to show him a plain and nondescript watch on her wrist.

"A gift from Hikifune-dono," she says. "It works even in a high reishi environment like this. We've only been in Hueco Mundo for two hours. We can rest for a few hours." Rukia withdraws her arm. "Besides," she adds, looking around at the still and somewhat eerie forest, "Runuganga said something about Shinigami. That could mean Renji or even Ichigo, since we're still in the vicinity of where Ichigo entered. It's possible he fell into the Forest of Menos just like we did. If I remember correctly, the exit is on the other side of here. We should sweep this area before we leave."

Tōshirō doesn't say anything, quietly watching her. When Rukia realizes that he's been silent for too long, she looks back at him and raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Fine," he says.

Tōshirō lays himself across a branch, his feet against the trunk of the tree. He has to pillow his arms under his head to be comfortable but he's too tired to care, exactly like Rukia had guessed.

On a branch above him, Rukia is doing the same. He knows as well as she does that they're not going to sleep. No well-trained Shinigami would ever sleep in a place like this, their instinct's wouldn't allow it and their zanpakuto's would never let their wielder be so vulnerable. But a well-trained Shinigami would also be a master at meditation and floating somewhere between consciousness and their inner world is enough to recuperate some energy.

Tōshirō closes his eyes against Rukia's back above him.

"You never told me what happened between you and Isshin," Rukia says suddenly but conversationally.

He doesn't open his eyes, instead just arching an eyebrow. "You never told me what happened between you and Ichigo," he counters.

"You never asked," she tells him pointedly, which is true. Though it's a little late to ask now, Tōshirō had had many opportunities to get the story out of her before, but at the time, he hadn't wanted to know.

"Nothing happened," Rukia says from above him. "I guess that was the problem."

"There are worse problems to have," he tells her.

She doesn't reply. She rolls her body over to look down at him. Her hair is long enough to brush against his chest, which Tōshirō is unfortunately hyper-aware of but which Rukia doesn't care enough about to pull it back.

"You don't seem very comfortable around him," she says. "Why's that?"

Tōshirō slowly opens his eyes to look at her. She looks genuinely curious. Despite everything, he knows Rukia would never ask him a question she thought he didn't want to answer. She had always been good at telling which of his strings could be pulled without consequence, which ones needed gentle tugging, and which ones should be avoided for now.

So he tells her.

* * *

Somewhat ironically, for all the opportunity Tōshirō had been given to choose the division he wanted to join, in the end, the decision was still made for him.

He sat exactly five division entrance exams and he passed all of them, of course, with flying colours, too. But of the five divisions, the one he chose, in the end, was the Fifth Division. In the end, the allure of becoming lieutenant was too much to pass up. And he might as well keep an eye on Momo while he was at it.

On the day of graduation, which Tōshirō was doing his best to skip, Matsumoto came to find him. This would become the first instance of the legendary ability of Matsumoto Rangiku to find Tōshirō, even when he was doing his best to hide. If she ever claimed not to know where he was, she was lying.

He was, at the time, camped out on the rooftop of a nondescript school building. The graduation ceremony was taking place a mere two buildings away from him but he had correctly assumed that the closer he was to it, the less likely anyone would look for him there. Except for Matsumoto.

She landed on the weathered tile with a soft tap of her foot. Matsumoto brushed her windswept hair from her shoulder and tsked at him.

"You left the dean of the advanced class hanging back there," she said. "He didn't seem to know what to do with himself, what with his star pupil missing."

Tōshirō, who was lying across the tiles with an arm thrown over his face, didn't move. "I told him I wasn't coming," he said, stifling a yawn. "It's not my fault that he didn't believe me."

Matsumoto folded her arms, toeing him with her foot in a way meant to annoy him. "He's not the only one who was looking for you. My Captain was, too. He planned to take you out for a drink to celebrate."

This caused Tōshirō to slide his arm off of his face and blink up at her. Matsumoto was wearing her Shinigami uniform but it was clear that she had put more effort into it today. Her hair, though now windswept, had obviously been carefully coiled into large, bouncy curls. Her shihakusho looked pressed and was maybe even brand new. And for the first time since Tōshirō had known her, she was wearing her lieutenant's armband.

"Why would Captain Shiba do that?" he asked her, confused.

"'Cause he wants to welcome you, dummy," she said. "He feels like he won a sweepstake, you know, getting you into our division. He won't stop talking about you, it's kind of been driving everyone insane."

Tōshirō sat up. "What?"

Matsumoto gave him a questioning look. "What, what?"

"I'm not supposed to be in the Tenth Division," he said. "No offense, but I'm supposed to be in the Fifth."

Matsumoto unfolded her arms, resting her hands on her hips, expression bewildered. "No, you are," she told him. "I'm sure of that. We got your recruitment papers this morning. Captain signed off on it immediately, which was a first for him, let me tell you."

Tōshirō got to his feet, frowning heavily. "That's not right. There must have been a mistake. I didn't send my recruitment forms to Captain Shiba, I sent them to—" He cut himself off. "I have to go," he told Matsumoto vaguely and took off.

She called after him, "Are you still coming for that drink? I've been looking forward to it all day, you know!"

Tōshirō didn't go looking for Captain Shiba. He went looking for Captain Aizen and he found him in one of the Academy courtyards in the company of Captain Ichimaru. The courtyard was otherwise vacant and it was clear that the two Captains were having a private meeting there.

Tōshirō noticed this almost immediately but in his haste, he didn't have time to backtrack before he was seen.

"Hitsugaya-kun," Aizen smiled at him. "I almost thought I wasn't going to see you today."

Tōshirō quickly bowed to the two men. "Forgive me for interrupting you," he said quickly.

"Not at all, Hitsugaya-kun," Ichimaru told him smilingly. "How can we help the Shin'o Academy's top student?"

On any other day, this compliment from Ichimaru Gin would have been the highlight of his day. However, Tōshirō only had eyes for Aizen.

"Captain Aizen, sir, I—my recruitment forms, I—" and Tōshirō realized he didn't really know how to ask what he wanted to ask.

Captain Aizen seemed to figure it out.

"Ah, yes," the Captain said, a touch regrettable. "Unfortunately, Hitsugaya-kun, the Fifth Division reached its limit for recruitments before I received your request. I was quite excited by your entrance exam results, but it was just a second too late. Captain Shiba made it well-known how much he liked you after your initial meeting, so I sent them off to him, instead. I hope that was alright. I assumed you would have been informed about this so my apologies for not telling you directly."

And that…made sense. By the time Tōshirō had packed up his dorm room and moved into the Tenth Division's barracks, he had reconciled the situation. Captain Aizen was not just popular to Momo. He was, for want of a better description, a desirable Captain for many Academy students, and though there was a benchmark passing grade for the entrance exam, it was very much a first-come, first serve kind of thing. Tōshirō might have had the highest score among the recruits but many others would have crossed the benchmark, and if they had all gotten there before him, Aizen couldn't deprive another recruit to hold a spot for him. Tōshirō regretted taking so long to make his decision but it was what it was. He could live with it.

Tōshirō wouldn't know until he became a Captain himself that, while it was true that there was a cap to the number of recruits any one division could accrue each year, this was systematically ignored. Aizen simply knew better than to accept him. But by the time Tōshirō would find this out, he would have long stopped being able to imagine himself in any Division that was not the Tenth, and so he never made the connection. But before this, Tōshirō would come to hate the Tenth.

His first day did not go well.

New recruits toured the division on their first day and it was immediately clear that, among the seated officers of Division Ten, Tōshirō was universally disliked.

He would only figure out why when the tour group came to the Captain's office and Captain Shiba signalled him out of the group with a booming "Tōshirō!" and patted him too familiarly on the back.

"Good to see you, son," Shiba said to him with a grin, punctuating his syllables with repeated hits to Tōshirō's back. "Was a bit touch and go there for a bit, wasn't it, but I got you in the end."

Tōshirō, taking note of the stares he was getting, quickly extracted himself from within reach of the Captain.

"Welcome," Shiba went on to address the rest of the recruits. "You should all know who I am. I'm your Captain and this is your lieutenant, Matsumoto Rangiku. The Tenth Division has some of the best Shinigami in the Gotei Thirteen and I have very high expectations for all of you. We don't have many hard and fast rules here so I expect you to faithfully follow the rules we do have. Our systems have been around for longer than you have and have been tried and tested for just as long. It is in your best interest to follow them. Except for paperwork, if you have any suggestions for how to decrease the amount of it, I'm all ears."

This elicited a laugh from the recruits and the relaxation of whatever tension they'd had upon meeting the Captain to begin with.

"Now, our first order of business is the Trial by Combat. Yes, now I have your attention," Captain Shiba's smile had a touch of cunning, "This will be your opportunity to claim a seated position by challenging any of the currently seated officers. I encourage you all to participate but I must tell you to do so at your own risk. My officers have worked hard to be where they are and they will not go easy on you. Recruits have died during the Trial by Combat—"

Matsumoto promptly stepped on his foot to cut him off. "He's lying," she told them. "But no recruit has passed the Trial by Combat in more than ten years and those that have are very rare. But by all means, if you think you can be the next one, go right ahead." And she looked over at Tōshirō briefly, having more social sense than her Captain to know not to signal him out.

Tōshirō understood then why none of the seated officers liked him. Even if Tōshirō only challenged the lowest seat, he was bound to push them out of the position. If he challenged anyone higher, not only would he push someone out, he would demote every officer beneath him by one seat. And he could tell immediately that everyone, even Matsumoto and Captain Shiba, expected him to challenge and win.

The Trial by Combat was set to take place a week later. Recruits could challenge any time before then and on the day itself. In that week, Tōshirō was avoided like the plague. People whispered about him when he walked by. His name was misplaced on the daily schedules, causing him to flounder about his duties. He was being systematically and persistently isolated. If this were the Academy, he would call it bullying.

The day before the Trial by Combat his name was left completely off the schedule and Tōshirō decided, rather than running around trying to find out where he was supposed to be from people who didn't want to talk to him, he just wouldn't do anything that day. He wasn't zesty enough to completely leave the Division grounds but he definitely wasn't going to stay anywhere he wasn't wanted.

Tōshirō decided to work on his shunpo. He chose a rooftop at random and proceeded to shunpo across the Tenth Division, aiming to cover the entire thing without being seen. This worked until he came near the Captain's offices and suddenly there was a foot sticking across his path and he was hurtling into the gravel walkway.

"You're not bad, son, but I could still feel you from a hundred yards away."

Tōshirō picked himself up off the ground and looked up at the roof.

Captain Shiba was standing there, his body blacked out by the sun behind him but clearly grinning.

"Captain Shiba," Tōshirō bowed.

"Busy today, aren't we?" the Captain said to him conversationally and sat down on the roof. He patted the spot next to him and Tōshirō hesitated but still joined him on the roof, sitting a little uneasily next to the man.

"I've been keeping track of the Trial by Combat challenges," Shiba said. "I noticed you haven't made any."

Tōshirō frowned. "You said it was voluntary," he reminded him.

"Ah," Shiba held up a finger, "I also said I have very high expectations of my recruits. Don't tell me you came here just to wallow as an unseated officer?"

"No," Tōshirō told him firmly, "I did not. But I'm not sure stepping on the toes of all the seated officers is in my best interest right now."

Shiba stared at him for a moment before he burst out laughing, catching Tōshirō by surprise.

"You think too much," Shiba laughed. "Don't miss out on this opportunity just because you're worried about how they're going to feel about you. You're here for the long-run son, they'll have to get used to you eventually." And he gave Tōshirō one of those spine-altering pats on the back.

"My advice is to challenge the fifteenth seat or below," Shiba told him. "You're not going to stay there for too long so they'll get it back. And that way you won't, as you say, step on too many toes, ne?"

Tōshirō mumbled a non-response and the Captain laughed.

"Do you want to know who was the last person to win a Trial by Combat?"

Tōshirō looked up at him. He did want to know.

"Your friend, Matsumoto Rangiku," and the Captain pointed at Matsumoto, who was in a courtyard below them, hands on her hips and looking into every bush and behind every tree. "Does that look like a woman who cares about stepping on anyone's toes?"

Matsumoto certainly did not. In fact, she looked rather pissed. She seemed to feel their eyes on her and she spun around, eyes staring daggers at her Captain.

"Captain Shiba!" she scolded. "Why did I find these documents you said you finished and sent off hidden in the tea cupboard?"

Shiba called back to her, "It was the last place you looked for it, wasn't it?" then whispered to Tōshirō, "That's my cue to leave," and then he fled, a yelling Matsumoto on his heels.

The day of the Trials by Combat came and Tōshirō hadn't challenged anyone. He gathered with all the other Division Ten officers and just watched.

Predictably, the lower seated officers had the most challenges and no one over the tenth seat had been challenged. The trials began with the highest seated officer, the tenth seat. Only one recruit had dared to challenge so high but it became clear almost immediately that he had overestimated himself. Not only was the tenth seat several magnitudes more powerful, unlike what Captain Shiba had said, the officer was clearly going easy on the recruit, deliberately sparing his life.

The following trials ended much the same. Some seated officers were more forgiving than others; no one aimed to kill but some came very close. The twentieth seat had a total of eight challenges, the most of anyone. Exhaustion was not a consideration and so he had to fight every challenge consecutively, giving hope to the recruits at the end of his list that they might have a chance after all. Yet despite this, not one of them could defeat him.

The divide between an experienced, seated Shinigami and a recent Academy graduate was wider than any of them had thought.

Captain Shiba came to stand in the middle of the courtyard. "That's the end of the list," he announced, not looking too disappointed. "I hope you've all at least learned something. Now, any recruit who still wants to challenge, please come forward."

No one moved. The smarter recruits would have waited until after the immediate battles to challenge. This way, they could gauge their chances of success by their peers' wins or losses before deciding if they wanted to challenge or not. After the display they had just watched, it seemed they had all unanimously decided not to.

"Come now," Shiba encouraged them, "You still have a chance, don't be scared." His eyes found Tōshirō's in the crowd. By now, everyone had come to the conclusion that the boy genius wasn't going to challenge. He'd had his chance to put his name on the list and to step forward at Captain Shiba's call. No one expected him to come forward now and even if he did, they'd all begun to doubt whether he could actually defeat a seated officer. He might still have a chance if he challenged the twentieth seat but his victory after defeating a clearly exhausted officer would be tainted.

Tōshirō, holding Captain Shiba's gaze, made his way out of the crowd, coming to stand before him amidst the sudden hush he didn't even notice. The Captain smiled.

"Tōshirō," he said to him, "Which one of my officers would you like to challenge?"

Tōshirō looked over at where the seated officers were. Half of them were recovering from their matches and looking at him warily, while the other half looked like they clearly thought they were untouchable. Tōshirō pointed unconcernedly at the third seat.

"Her."

* * *

"This is a long story."

Tōshirō opens one eye to look up at Rukia. She's lying like an indolent cat on the branch, her head pillowed by one arm, the other hanging leisurely in the air, eyes closed and giving every impression that she's sleeping.

"I'm thorough," he says and, a little miffed that this is the part of the story she had chosen to interrupt him, adds, "Don't you want to know if I won?"

"I know," she says simply.

Tōshirō stretches on the branch. "Get some rest," he advises her, closing his own eyes.

Rukia hums in acknowledgement but doesn't ask him to continue. It's not a very interesting story anyway.

Their little rest only lasts for the next ten minutes, however, before Tōshirō feels a slight change in the air. He's up in a second, landing on Rukia's branch with his zanpakuto drawn, only to find her already up and crouching. She's staring down at the darkness below them.

"Can you tell what it is?" she whispers to him with a frown.

Tōshirō lowers himself next to her. "No," he replies, "But it feels familiar. Perhaps one of the Adjuchas from before. It's only one, though."

Rukia draws her own zanpakuto. "Let's take it, then."

Tōshirō would rather not but Rukia's already halfway down the tree before he can say as much. He follows after her, of course, and they both swing their blades forward in an attack that shouldn't be as coordinated as it is—that is, coordinated until Tōshirō gets close enough to see this unknown adversary and he quickly tries to backtrack.

There's a cacophonous awkward clanging of three swords that were aiming to kill suddenly changing to hasty avoidance.

"Ow! Ow! What the fuck? I can't handle the two of you at the same time!"

Rukia, who had neither slowed her descent nor moved out of the way, barrels unashamedly into the figure before them, tumbling them both into the ground.

"Renji!"

It is indeed Renji, long red hair tied up and out of the way with a cotton scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, completely succumbed to the girl who was barely three quarters his height and less than half of his weight. Rukia has him pinned to the ground, her palms pressed flat against his shoulders.

Tōshirō sighs and sheaths his zanpakuto, reaching down to collect Rukia's that had fallen to the side for safety's sake in her tackle.

"Renji," he says, "I didn't think we'd run into you so soon."

"Well, I wasn't expecting you, either," the other man says, making no attempt to get up.

"How did you end up here?" Tōshirō asks him.

"It's a long story," he says, "But I was trying to get away."

Tōshirō exchanges a glance with Rukia. "Get away from what?" she asks.

Before he can answer, the still and eerie quiet around them is broken by a low and reverberating rumble. It sends a few loose stones skittering on the ground and makes the hairs on Tōshirō's neck stand up. He looks up over Renji's body to see the blackness before them ripping open, spilling a few dozen Menos Grande out not fifty yards away.

Renji rather uselessly lifts a hand and points to them. "That."


End file.
